


Shutter

by InkyJustine



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Dark, Disturbing Themes, Drugged Sex, Drugs, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Object Penetration, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkyJustine/pseuds/InkyJustine
Summary: The first sluggish-slow realization when he woke up was that the ground was hard on which he lay and glaringly white. The second was that his wrists were tied with duct tape. The third that he was naked. Slow realizations, gently floating up in a mind that felt like it was packed in cotton.





	Shutter

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings. This is not a happy fic and honestly the darkest and most depressing shit I've ever written. :')

This month's Vortex party turned out to be a costume party.

Victoria had thought of it and that was why Nathan was drunk and high and in the process of getting _frisky_ with a stranger whose face was hidden behind a bird mask, a raven, if Nathan identified that right. In any case it didn't really matter. Nathan's own face graced a fox mask and if he had been less drunk and relaxed he would have felt ashamed for kissing a stranger; _a man_. 

They had gone into one of the rooms farther away from the main event and no one was around to see them. It was like a balm over Nathan’s fear. If no one saw it, he could go on pretending it didn’t happen. The joint before the party had served its purpose to stop the shaking of Nathan's hands, the fidgeting and the stranger could kiss so well that Nathan was simply going to... have fun. 

Just for a little while. Just for tonight. 

The stranger raised his glass to Nathan's lips and Nathan drank, eagerly so. Some more alcohol would steady the last of his nerves. The man's hand, and there was no doubt that it was a man and not some boy, was broad on his waist, steering him towards the corner. This building didn’t have any beds, just a couch that Nathan was going to point the guy to once he was done drinking. One of his hands slid further down to palm Nathan through his pants after he had put the glass down and Nathan let out a moan, stifled by the stranger's palm when it quickly came up to cover his mouth.

Ever since meeting, the stranger hadn't spoken at all, just touched Nathan to distraction, leaning in invitingly until Nathan had followed him without telling Victoria or the others goodbye. It was so _exciting_ and fraught, an adventure and the most fun Nathan had had in awhile. 

But suddenly, Nathan felt dizzy. As if from a long way off he heard the stranger shush him, press his mouth against the side of Nathan's neck when Nathan had to steady himself against the wall.

"I don't feel so good," he slurred out and broad hands caught him gently around the waist and that was the last he knew.

 

The first sluggish-slow realization, when he woke up, was that the ground was hard on which he lay and glaringly white. 

The second was that his wrists were tied with duct tape. 

The third that he was naked. 

Slow realizations, gently floating up in a mind which felt like it was packed in cotton. Horror spread just as slowly through him, starting out from his chest and reaching his limbs in a tingle minutes later.

A shutter went off.

Internally, Nathan jerked, but outwardly nothing moved. His limbs weren't obeying him. His _body_ lay still as dead, except for his chest slowly rising and falling as if Nathan didn't want to jump up and run.

As if he hadn’t just realized were exactly he was.

And with whom.

"You're quicker than others to realize where you are," Mark said conversationally, making another photograph from a little ways away, catching the whole of Nathan's body, the fetal curl of it. "But then again, you've been here before."

"Fuck you," Nathan shouted, except he didn't. The words got lost somewhere on the way from his brain to his mouth, leaving his lips to tremble uselessly. It was the only part of him that moved, but not of his own accord and not in any way which could help him.

"Don't worry, Nathan, you won't remember a thing come tomorrow." Mark smiled at him. Behind him on the metal table, Nathan thought he could make out the gleam of a syringe and still his voice was as assuring as always. It send cold shivers down Nathan’s spine.

 _Why are you doing this_ , Nathan wanted to cry, but even that wasn't possible. The only thing escaping him was a tiny whimper, almost unheard. 

"Now, now, don't try to fight it," Mark said amicable, laying down in front of him to get a better angle of his face, to catch his expression. A tiny part of Nathan, the morbid part, wanted to see what he looked like in this moment. The rest of him didn’t. He just wanted to be home, safely tucked away in his own bed with the lock turned. The horror was only ever interesting to look at it you weren’t a part of it, if you could keep yourself off to the side.

"You should see your face," Mark continued, "so beautiful, the fear." Again, the shutter sounded, capturing Nathan over and over.

Nathan was lying on his side, legs bend so his crotch was hidden from view, hands by his face. Mark reached for him, intense look in his eyes, every fibre of his being focused on his work. 

His _vision_. 

It had been fascinating when Nathan had been on the other side of the camera, too, standing beside Mark and watching him do his magic; when he had shared his knowledge, a teacher and a kind of father figure.

Now it only scared Nathan, the intensity, the cool madness lurking behind it.

Nathan whimpered again when Jefferson took hold of one of his legs and moved it, gently but determined, to the side, spreading Nathan's legs obscenely wide. Only now did Nathan notice that his ankles were tied as well, leaving his thighs to fall open, like the wings of a butterfly. He wanted to move, to hide his nakedness, but his body wasn't listening.

And Jefferson wasn’t paying any attention to his distress either. 

"You probably know already that you won't be one of my usual projects," Jefferson said. It wasn't news that he loved hearing himself talk. Just yesterday Nathan had hung onto his every word, but right now he just wanted to shove his fist into the man's face.  
But instead, he simply lay there as Jefferson stood over him and took photo after photo, stripping Nathan to more than just his skin.

"Sorry to say Nathan, but you're not innocent, not beautiful in the way all my former models were. But don't worry," he grinned at Nathan, "I will corrupt you in another way."

Another picture, shutter sounding loud in the room. It almost seemed to echo, but that was only Nathan's imagination, or the drugs distorting his senses.

Nathan cried out, internally at least, when Jefferson reached for his cock and gave him a few strokes.

"So crude," Jefferson said as Nathan's member filled, growing plumper in his hand. "You're one of the most annoying people I ever had the displeasure of meeting, but you are quite pretty when you throw yourself on a stranger."

Behind the mask... of course.

Tears stung Nathan's eyes. Of course he was being used again. 

"If only your father knew what a little slut his son is." Jefferson smiled, still friendly, a contrast to his words.

Once Nathan was hard, Jefferson mercifully let go of him, raising the camera to his face. Again, Nathan tried to turn his head, tried to move his whole body to at least hide the humiliation of his groin being on display, the shame of his erection. 

Mercilessly, the shutter went off, again and again as Jefferson stepped around him.

Then the camera was put to the side, making Nathan swallow around bile, and a bottle and a tube of lube was placed into Nathan's line of vision. _Now_ his heart raced, but it was no use, since he still couldn't move, couldn’t crawl away from Jefferson and what he was going to do.

Quickly, Jefferson snapped another picture.

"You see," he went on, ever monologuing, "this has nothing to do with art. It's simply pornography. No artistic value to it." He made a dismissive gesture. 

Then Jefferson coated the fingers of one of his rubber gloves with lube and trailed it between Nathan's legs. He wasn't particularly cruel or gentle as he shoved a finger into Nathan's hole, he was simply methodical, clinical in the way he stretched him. It was just part of the preparation. 

A tear rolled down Nathan's cheek. He would have sobbed if he had been able to.

At least it didn't take long for the fingers to pull free again, but that hardly made Nathan feel better when he had to watch Jefferson pick up a bottle from the table that Nathan hadn’t paid any attention to. He showed it to Nathan, holding it in front of his face and letting him see the way the bottleneck was filled with some kind of clay or plastic. 

Nathan’s belly twisted. He wanted to throw up, kick, fight, do something, _anything_ but lay there and take it.

"I wouldn't want to injure you," Jefferson said. smiling reassuringly again. "Tomorrow I want you to help me again and I can't have you limping."

He rolled the bottle in his hands. "Of course you may limp slightly, but you will think the stranger tonight fucked you really well." He grinned. "You wouldn't be wrong."

Nathan whimpered when the mouth of the bottle touched his hole, feeling cold and sick. His stomach rolled and he heaved, but nothing came up. The only upside to the drug was that there was barely any resistance as Jefferson let the bottleneck penetrate Nathan. He felt the unyielding glass spread open his channel, widening the more was pushed into him until Jefferson stopped.

It _hurt_. The belly of the bottle was bigger than anything Nathan had felt before, too big.

Another tear ran down his face.

"Don't be that way," Jefferson chided him, carefully wiping the trails away and picking up his camera again. "You'll be kept immortal through my pictures. Of course I wouldn't show them around." This time his smile was self-deprecating. "They're for my private collection. Only a selected few will see those."

The shutter went off as Jefferson snapped a photo of Nathan, legs spread and bottom of the bottle sticking out from the space between and Nathan was still hard, erection having flagged only a little. He whimpered, tried to move and failed.

Jefferson reached for him again, carefully moving his legs together. The shifting made the bottle sting.

"Don't move," Jefferson shouted, angry furrow between his brows, stomping a foot when Nathan managed to turn his head, just a small jerk when he had meant to roll to his feet and run. A stinging slap was delivered to his ass, leaving him burning with shame and humiliation. And anger.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a difficult situation for you to be in," Jefferson continued more gently while he snapped another picture, paused to push the bottle in again from where Nathan's body had pushed it out. "I will make you come as a reward."

Nathan wanted to laugh. In his mind he was dreaming up scenarios in which he shoved a knife through Jefferson's dead eyes, cut him up and let him bleed. And scream.

But for now he could only lay there as Jefferson filled up the card of his camera, watched as he checked the photos on the small display. He had let Nathan hold the camera once. It was a beautiful device.

Nathan wanted to smash it to pieces.

"Hey, hey," Jefferson said, "don't drift off." He moved the bottle, thrusting it in and out of Nathan's hole, getting his attention and focusing it on _that_ place. It didn’t hurt anymore.

With difficulty, Nathan focused on Jefferson's smiling face behind the camera.

Click.

"What a beautiful face you sometimes have," Jefferson said, kneeling beside him. "But now, on to the last part of my vision."

A muscle in Nathan's leg jumped when Jefferson gripped his leg for support and pulled the bottle out, but Nathan didn't know if it was just a normal reaction or if _he_ had done that. When he tried moving again nothing happened, not even a tiny twitch.

The bottle was placed beside the light, glistening from the lube. Nathan averted his eyes, which meant watching Jefferson instead. Dread hardened to a small cold point in his belly, making him hurt when Jefferson took off his pants and then his underwear, folding both immaculately on the couch.

Nathan's clothes lay there as well, a tidy bundle. He hadn’t even noticed. His leg twitched, but Jefferson didn’t notice.

But he did move Nathan onto his knees, placing them so they could support Nathan's weight while his hands lay uselessly beside his face, shoulders and face pressed up uncomfortably against the unyielding ground. His back was bowed, no doubt looking beautifully debauched and wanton to Jefferson, who, with a calculating look, picked up his camera again and walked around him.

Click. Click. Click.

Nathan couldn't see what he was making pictures off, but he could guess. The glove of Jefferson's hand touched his ass, pulled one cheek to the side. Click.  
Two fingers were shoved into him and spread. Another click like a gunshot in Nathan’s ears.

Then Jefferson walked back into view and Nathan watched, numbness spreading through him as Jefferson took a picture of his face, moved back a little and laid on the floor, aiming the eye of his camera into the space between Nathan's legs where his cock still hung semi-hard.

Again the camera touched the ground, Nathan heard Jefferson kneel behind him. He whimpered, bound hands moving restlessly and uncoordinated against the floor as Jefferson pushed into him, flesh instead of glass this time.

"You feel really good," Jefferson grunted. "Much tighter than I would have expected from you, but then you don't really like letting people close, don’t you?" 

Nathan whimpered and hated that it wasn't from pain, not even from fear. There was distant and unexpected, _unwanted_ , pleasure in having Jefferson's cock fucking into him, spreading his hole open and rubbing against a spot inside of him that Nathan had found only once while he had touched himself. It had felt good then, alone in his room with whale songs in his ear, door locked and angle awkward. It was none of that now, despite the pleasure.

Nathan wanted to turn back time and tell himself to stay home tonight.

Or to kill himself.

No more shitty days. People could try pushing and using his corpse instead.

Jefferson picked up his pace, moaning as he pounded into him and then, when another whimper escaped Nathan, he stopped. Nathan heard the shutter of the camera again behind him as Jefferson made a few pictures of the bow of Nathan's back, cock buried inside his ass.

Then, as if no pause had happened, he hammered into Nathan again, jolting him against the floor until he came. Nathan felt the come filling him, feeling slick and sick when Jefferson pulled out. A brief moment of relief where more tears slid down Nathan’s cheeks, before Jefferson turned him onto his back, spread his legs again and Nathan felt his own face pale when he felt his come slip out of his hole to pool on the floor.

Out of breath, Jefferson crouched beside him and wrapped a hand around Nathan's cock. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction, could only be vaguely proud that Jefferson grew frustrated with how long it took until Nathan streaked come over his own belly.

"You nearly ruined it," Jefferson hissed at him and got back to his feet, getting dressed again before he grabbed his camera for the final picture.  
Nathan, he knew, was the picture of debauchery, _corruption_. The vision of it, come filling him and covering him and Nathan could only helplessly lay there as Jefferson turned his head and body into position until at last the sting of the needle set Nathan free, plunging him into darkness.

If not for long.


End file.
